Dreams: Ghosts Of Things To Come... [Open To All]

[Jeseth Cloak]

<font size=1>[OOC: There's no set timeline for this, but you can assume it's in a possible future by at least twenty years. Please, no plots of galactic domination or wide-spread plagues. This RP is just to develop characters and possible directions for them.]</font>


The sun was set high in the east, shadows slithering to the west in some feeble hope of escaping it. It was but another broiling day on Tatooine. Many of the people were by now used the the climate, used to the insufferable heat, but deep in the reaches of the Mos Eisley Cantina, Herette Mesfan was not one of those individuals. The strange bulky alien had been there drinking since the first of two suns had come up, seemingly immune to the multiple toxins he fed into his blood stream. For a while a crowd gathered around him, watching him and waiting for him to show some sign of fatigue, or even discomfort, but no such thing came. Slowly, the deep and dull yellow of Mesfan's eyes chipped and cracked with spots of red. After a full eight hours of drinking, the tall brown creature's eyes had completed their change of hues.

Outside in the market place, Jeseth continued to walk, not a drop of sweat appearing upon his pale white skin. He was dressed in his usual attire: black (seemingly formal) pants, light weight boots adorned with glimmering steel and pewter spikes, a dark gray shirt, and a black coat. His hood hung down behind the protective collar attacked to his shirt. It stood erect behind his neck, extending to shield his shoulders in the form of cortosis padding. As was the case, his passing often pulled alienated and questioning glances from whatever circle he happened to be traveling through. This time, fortunately for the inhabitants of the Mos Eisley Space Port, Jeseth was here to kill time.

A shimmer caught his eye, and he paused for a moment to inspect a both in the market place. A ring caught his eye, but it was a familiar one. "Excuse me," he asked, tapping a pudgy blue alien on the back, "where did you get this?" The blue thing turned from it's seat behind the stand and grumbled something incomprehensible, then snorted. "I see. I want it." The blue man nodded, his bulbous eyes bobbing in place as he picked the ring up and handed it to Jeseth. The Dark Jedi pocketed the item and continued to walk onward.



<font size=5>CRASH!!</font>



An immense door ripped, bent, and tore away from it's place, soaring through the air and crushing a small Jawa in the process. The tiny hooded alien gave out a moan of pain as it's head crumbled underneath the pressure. Jeseth looked down at it, then back in the direction the door had flown in from. There was a large bulky alien growling at bystanders, using it's bone-spiked knuckles to pummel into submission anyone who happened to be in his field of vision. It's eyes were an intense red, almost as if it's whole world were immersed in blood... and them it calmed down, catching it's breath. It's muscles were still tensed and intent on action. Jeseth strode towards the thing and sneered, looking up at it. "Do you have a problem?"

It a gurgle, a bit of yellow fluid dripping from it's toothless mouth. Jeseth failed to understand whatever the thing was trying to tell him, but the generally feeling being projected was unchanneled rage, and mild confusion. For a while, things seemed to have calmed down, the Dark Jedi's stare keeping the assailant at bay, and then it all exploded once again. Mesfan swung a hard fist at Jeseth, almost breaking through the air as he directed his force into striking the man down. There was an audible crack, and then several people just stared wide-eyed. Jeseth's hand had intercepted the alien's fist with little effort, despite the obvious difference in physical stature.

The awed and worshipping look was more deserving of a hero. For some reason, that was all that was going through Jeseth's head when a second blow came at him, but this time there was no sound. It didn't connect, missing the Dark Jedi's head by mere centimeters. Mesfan fell to the floor, and Jeseth merely walked away, ignoring the glances and thankful sighs of relief. The sighs became gasps as a young boy pushed the alien over, only to find that it's eyes had exploded, and there were several capillaries and veins hanging loosely from it's nose. People turned to look for Jeseth, but he was gone, leaving behind only silent shadows in his wake.




Then this is all I have... Jeseth thought to himself, clutching at the ring within his pocket. He knew it too well, for there was only one like it in the entire galaxy. It had been crafted by the hands of the finest Metal workers in the Teta system, made from the rarest ores and purest gems he had managed to find - but the one who had worn it would never return to him. How it had ended up here, he could only guess. He was fortunate that the sand had tarnished the ring enough to make it appear undesirable at a glance. It was, to him, the only thing worth keeping now.

[Lady DeVille]

ooc: Just a possible future, after all... ;) its a lot different from what I talked to you about Jeseth..hope you like it! /ic:

A hooded figure stood and watched the confrontation between the overly intoxicated Mesfan, and the shorter, lighter alien. With a swish of its dragging cloak on the dusty ground, the figure walked out of the cantina, and away from the gathering crowd.

Once out in the full force of the suns, the heavy cloak got many stares, but no one said anything to the being under the hood. The cloaked figure walked in a perfectly straight line down the street, and then turned and ducked into an eroded alcove.

Pulling back the hood, a pale white face was revealed, inconsistent with the scorching surroundings. Wisps of dark brown hair, streaked through with white, flew about the face in the dry hot wind. The face was feminine, and held traces of great beauty, but it showed signs of ... Of something else.

Lilaena Tondry blinked her hazel eyes, and spoke softly into a comlink. She had been using the Force for at least thirty years consciously, and perhaps fifteen years before that unconsciously, yet the ability to communicate through the Force to another being was still something she lacked control in. "Ivanrue, are you there?"

A crackle of static, and then her son's reassuring voice, "I hear you." She smiled to herself at the sound of his voice, picturing the overeager twenty year old Padawan hunching over the console aboard ship. "Heading back?"

"Not yet. Stay in orbit, do not, under any circumstances, come planetside. Do you understand?" She injected firmness into her voice, and then had to turn her head as a cloud of dust swept by her.

"Loud and clear Mother. When do you expect to come back then?" Ivanrue sounded a little worried, probably picking up on her feelings from so far away. As mother and son they had a bond that made Force connections between them last longer and further than possible with other beings.

Lilaena cleared her throat, "ETA unknown, I'll keep in touch though. I'll talk to you soon." She refrained from the usual motherly salutations, trying to keep things official sounding. Thumbing the comm off, she swept her hood back over her head, and drew it down so it covered her face. She had masked her presence in the Force back at the cantina, if only she could be sure he hadn't sensed her anyway.

Jeseth Cloak. After ten years... She blinked. Ten years since she had left the Black Hand, and turned herself over to the Light. She had fought him for entrance to the Hand, twenty years ago, before Ivanrue's birth.

And now, it seemed, another meeting was ordained by the Force. She walked down the street, in the general direction of the cantina.

[Teka Kenobi]

OOC: LD, could I please speak with you on aim?

IC:

Outside the town, the sands blew a golden mist in every direction. New dunes were being built and old ones destroyed. However inside one alien, had just been destroyed. A crowd still cautiously watched the large humanoid, some tapping it with their feet, just to make sure it was dead. Fear still inhabited most of the crowd, and they were wary to get to the front.

Away from the crowd was one man whose head was turned. He was watching one person leave the area, a hooded figure. Knowing who she was, even as she hid her force presence, the man smiled. She was going after Jeseth. He knew they had a history together, and this was something possibly, that she had to do.

Teka Kenobi was this man. He had come here merely because he felt he should. Deciding he would look around the town he shook the sand of his boots, for some strange reason, and walked into the town.

[Darius Van Derveld]

"It's pathetic here, don't you think?"

The young mans voice cut through the air like a razor blade, slicing the relatively quiet atmosphere in two. Swaggering in a manner which he was now all too used to, Darius approached the man he was speaking to.

His father had, when Darius was a young boy, told stories about the Jedi folk and in particularly one Knight, Teka Kenobi. Vega's dream of brutally slaughtering the man would never be lived out, sadly. Darius himself could have performed the act, and would have done if it were not for the fact that it would seem as though he was doing it in his fathers memory, which he certainly was not.

Slipping his hand into the pocket of his baggy black trousers, he glanced around, stopping to take in the scenery - if you could even call it that.

"Teka, going to answer me or are you going to live up to your cowardly Jedi name and run away?"

[Dark Jedi Jehova]

OOC: I may not be able to respond for a while, so I'll keep my character sorta out of the way.

End OOC.

I had not been to this planet in ten or so years. The place had not changed much. Only the people had changed, and they were not important to me. I was here for one reason. I had felt Jeseth's presense and decided I should visit my old master. I had not seen him in a long time and decided that it was time to patch our blood stained friendship.

I had felt Jeseth's presence outside and decided that it would be best if I waited to make my move. A crash, I did not know what it was, but one thing was certain. It was probably Jeseth's doing, I decided to check it out. By the time I had made it outside there was a large alien being on the floor, and Jeseth was walking away. I knew that he probably took the beast down with ease. I decided to follow him closely and wait to speak with him in private. There were far too many eyes and ears out on the street.

[Teka Kenobi]

Teka stopped suddenly. The sand sank beneath his feet with the weight of the man. Through the force he scanned the man, and found out some interesting information. The darkside was strong in this one, but not as strong as the light in him. His head turned to the side. Through the force the message was sent, loud and clear.

Which would you prefer, Darius?

Teka was now forty. Apparently life would start now. Although if it was anything compared to the life he'd been living for the past thirty-nine years he wanted no part in it. Consciously of course he didn't believe that. He'd do whatever was needed to protect the innocent. The thing was, nowadays not so many people were innocent.

He turned to face the son of Vega and look at him, slowly up and down. His face held a blank expression and his head was tilted just slightly to the right. The apparent Sith wore very unorthodox clothing, and stood in a posture very unlike any other Sith Teka had confronted. Teka’s black cloak blew back in a slight gust, as did sand, none of which touched Teka’s bare face. His black hood was up and he had used the force to direct it away from him. Teka decided to follow up the question and spoke via the force.

I see you have followed in your fathers’ footsteps.

The young man glared his two sharp teeth, that he’d no doubt inherited from his father. Teka had obviously angered him, but that didn’t bother the Jedi. Darius’ hand remained in his pocket, but Teka could tell he was treading all over the Sith’s temper. Teka laughed to himself before speaking this time, with his own voice.

You might want to see a dentist about that.

He turned his back on the werewolf child and continued into the town, very wary of all movement around him. It was much easier now. He was well aware of everything around him. The Jedi Master had trained every day for the past twenty years. Ever since his training with Master Marr stopped, and he became a Knight. He predicted the last comment would not go down too well with the young Van-Derveld and kept a close track of his movements, ready to draw at any moment.

[Darius Van Derveld]

"I would prefer either, Teka! A good chase is always a bit of fun, don't you agree?"

He poked at the sand at his feet with the toe of one boot for a moment before beginning to follow Teka, walking at a fairly slow pace. No comment was made upon his following in his fathers, and masters, footsteps as he knew it would only lead to his lashing out in anger - which he did not, at this time, want to do.

"I brush regularly, eat healthy... plus, I think these fangs make me look rather attractive to the female of the species," he let out a Vega-esque laugh, "Not that you would know anything about that, eh old man?"

It was very obvious where the boy had gained his sense of humour from - apparently from the same place he'd gotten his teeth.

[Jeseth Cloak]

It's been a long time... but now it seems the past is catching up to me. The Dark Jedi looked up at the twin suns, watching as they began their shift to the west. The sky was a deep shade of red, pink and orange tracing the horizons. No matter... The future awaits. The Dark Jedi's lips twitched, the corners curling into a grin as he turned into a corner, deep into the shadows there. When De'Ville came behind several moments later, there was nothing but a cold breeze waiting for her there, and the orange glaze of the dying sunlight moving over the sand.

"You showed such promise... but it's not to late for you, De'Ville." Jeseth's voice was remote, but close. He was watching from someplace, and more than likely it would take her only a few more seconds to locate him... but how crucial would those seconds be? "I, too, once foolishly followed the path of the light, hoping for some resolution to the galaxy's every shifting balance of power. Do you think you've found that?" His vice trailed off without an echo, then died away. "Just <font color=red>come with me now...</font>" The words struck at her mind like needles, piercing her thoughts.

[Force Master Hunter]

Skreeeee

The sharpening stone scraped the edge of the blade

Skreeee

He wasnt really thinking of anything right then. He didnt really need to. The was a lack of things to do.

Skreee

He was a Bounty Hunter again today. Not many had as many faces as he did, he could count three or four identities that were known in the Galaxy. Skip Vatenen, Corporal. Force Master Hunter, crazy assed maniac with a surplus of guns. And now just General James Tohmahawk, recently promoted to New Republic Commader in Chief. His beloved NRSF was now lead by one of his good friends that he trusted utterly, which was the only way the Senate had pried him into the job he didnt really want. Too much ass kissing for his liking... altho, it was more the other way round now. There was a queue of people wanting to grovel to him. As far as he was concerned, they could all take a walk out of an airlock. He had no tolerance for suck ups and no time for them either.

Hence he liked to get away. Not home, that was too far except for a bi annual pilgramage, but Tattooine, the only place near that was warm as his home. The gravity was too light for his liking, but the burning heat... yes. He just sat on the roof just soaking it up. And with the grav plates in the room, it almost felt something like what he had been born to.

And he was doing nothing. Just.... sitting. Bliss.

Hunter was 128 years old, tho you would have been hard pressed to think the was older than 35. A long lived humanoid race he came from. A dark haired and fairly hard faced man, he wasnt all that tall or heavily built. But because of coming from a 2G planet, he was exceptionally strong when on normak grav places.

As he kept sharpening the weapon, he allowed his thoughts to drift on the past. The last twenty years had been hard... but satisfying. Jina Jade, the girl he had adopted had grown into a fine Jedi learner as well as quite a beauty. she had to keep beating off suitors. A lot like her mother, who had been dead 21 years. And her real father, who Hunter had executed himself 20 years ago. The insane Darth Turbogeek. Well, so it was thought and Hunter had never found anything that identified Jina's true father other than the dead Jedi Master.

The door to the room opened, Hunter didnt turn his head. "Your back. Find anything?"

The woman walked over to Hunter, kissed his forhead. Jina Jade absolutly worshipped her adopted father. Father and Daughter, they made one hell of a team. "Hey Hunter! yeah, there's one of those ugly slug Hutts trying to sell off. I was thinking about giving it a few problems. What do you think? And do you always have to have the grav plates turned up so high?"

Hunter turned around to face Jina. Flaming red hair, slim and athletic. She carried a Rail gun and a lightsabre. One hell of a fighter, almost as deadly as Hunter was and there was hardly an equal to him. "Come on, dont be so soft. Heavy grav will toughen you up. Do you want me to help out with the bust on the Hutt?"

"Only if you want to. You have much bigger things to worry yourself with these days, why should you be bothered with one Hutt?"

"For fun?"

She laughed. "You dont change do you?"

He was smiling. "Nah, why should I? Give me a few minutes to arm up and we'll go gangster busting."

Minutes later, Adopted father and daughter exited the room to go into the slowly gathering twilight of Tatooine.

OOC : Jes and De'ville, gimme a hoy

[Mortaniuss]

"Master, you still have yet to explain to me why we've come to a god-forsaken planet such as this."

Silently - for it was always kept well oiled - the captain's chair spun clockwise on it's base to face the source of the question. Nestled in it, in sharp contrast to the black leather itself, was a tall and noble figure. His skin, as white as bones left too long in the sun, was taught across his face; His features were sharp and high, lending him every ounce of regality that he deserved. Crimson eyes that seemed to glow in the absolute darkness of the cabin locked sight with those of the other man. Not that either of them could be called that, any longer.

"You call this planet 'God Forsaken', do you not? Yet, what are we? Were we not, too, once forsaken by whatever God or gods that rule over this plane of existence?"

The other man turned his head sharply up, looking away from his albino master.

"I am in no mood for another of your theology lessons, Sire. I asked a question of you and I would appreciate an answer: Not more rhetoric."

A low chuckle, deep and baritone, built itself up in Mortaniuss' throat, fading back away before it became a full bodied laugh.

"Hm hm hm... One of the first things you must learn, my childe, is patience. We have eternity to gain whatever it is that our little black hearts desire. Were I to allow you to act on impulse (as you seem to do so often as it is), you would not make it to see your hundredth year of existence, Dejoule."

The younger man's eyes flicked angrily back to his Sire. He opened his mouth, with the intention of firing off what he thought would be a particularly nasty retort, but was cut off as Mortaniuss continued his monologue.

"However, this I will answer you: We have come here in search of an object of interest. My interest. I have been tracking it for nearly a decade now. I hadn't expected to find it quite so quickly."

Dejoule's bloodless lips curled at the edges into something that was not quite a smile - a mirror of the same, humorless smile that had become a trademark of his master.

"A Non-Sequitur, if I may?"

Mortaniuss nodded his consent.

"Why do they - the mortals, I mean - use decades to measure the passage of time? It's such a short period of time. They'd just as well measure their pitiful lives in seconds."

At this, his master let out a throaty laugh, and Dejoule soon joined him.

[ReaperFett]

*The Previous Night*

Kicking open the door, Fett walked into the room, and immediately crossed his pistols across his chest, and fired. He allowed heard the same noise either side of him, the sound of a bullet meeting and greeting someones chest. Glancing to either side, he saw both of the bodyguards crumple to the floor in bloody messes. He stood still for a short time, before slowly glancing up in front, where a man sat. He was in his thirties, with his long, black hair in a ponytail. On a table in front of him was a number of small containers, which Fett recognised as what Spice is often carried in. From the looks of it, this man was a user of what he sold. His eyes were bulging. Fett couldn't tell if that was from the Spice, or because his two trusted bodyguards were now ornaments on his carpet. Not that it mattered.

"Lomus Ran, if I'm not mistaken" Fett said. Ran just sat there, not moving a muscle. The hitman figured he must have gone into shock. Not that he cared. Slowly, Fett raised both his pistols, and aimed at the mans chest.
<center><font color=red>

Grando Ad Rex Infans</font></center>

And with those words, he unloaded the remainder of both clips into the man. Fett watched as the man jerked on the chair as each bullet hit home. It almost seemed to be in slow motion. Eventually, the bulelts ended, and the man slumped off his chair. Reloading both pistols, just in case, he slowly walks over to the face-down body, which for some reason looked....different. He gently put his foot under the corpse, and rolled it over. But the bosy WAS different. Instead of Lomus, it was a female, with dark hair just below shoulder level. Fett just looked down in complete suprise.

"Jana?"

Waking up with a start, Fett found himself sitting up in bed, cold sweat running down his face, a nice sensation when in the heat of Tatooine. It had been a nightmare. The same as the night before. And the one before that. In fact, Fett couldn't remember when he last HADN'T had the nightmare. Feeling someones hand touch his arm, he glanced down, to see a woman about his age looking up at him, her eyes bleary.

"Bad dream?" She asked. he nodded in reply forcing a slight smile for her.
"I need to get some air" Fett replied, and leant down to kiss her gently on the lips. He then gets up, puts some clothes on, and leaves the room.

"I love you Ash" she says as he left. He turned to smile at her, before walking round the corner, his face no longer smiling. I now she loves me, but do I love her? Do I like her, yeah. Do I care for her? Definately. But love? I dont know. I think I do, but is it less I love her, and more I dont want to be alone? he thought, as he walked down the wallway.

**I think now's the perfect time to explain what's happened to Ash Longbaugh the last twenty years. The short answer is, a lot. But for the long answer, there's a lot more. After a few years, Ash had become unsure of his future with the Jedi. When a man wakes up in a cold sweat every night, he generally begins to wonder if he's the problem, or whats around him. Deciding option two was the right one, he decded he'd leave the Jedi. Despite how it sounds, it wasn't really a selfish act. He knew that if he got worse, he'd be bordering on the dark side with his feelings. And noones wants another dark sider running round the universe, do they? But he didn't just leave. No, what Ash did, was fake his own death. Telling only a tiny number of people, he bought a ship similar to The Chainsaw, his own ship. He then blasted it into orbit near the Jedi temple, and then blew it. No trace could be found. And everyone fell for it. The funeral was beautiful, and Ash would know, he was there.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Afterwards, he drifted around worlds, until he met up with Miro Ton. She had been a hitman at about the same time as him, and had even done a hit together once. To say she wasn't the happiest person in the world was an understatement. Probably due to the fact that her and Ash had become more than close while doing the hit, only for him to dissapear soon after. He hadn't been ready for anyone again, not so soon after Janas death. Anyway, the two ended up talking, and smoothed things out. Ash had even helped her smuggle goods on more than one occasion. In the end, the two's pasts caught up with them, and they had been attacked by Bounty Hunters more than once, and with increasing occurences. The two decided they needed to lie low for some time, until they lost the smell. They bought a small place in Tatooine, on the outskirts of Mos Eisley. Since then, the two have lived on Tatooine. You might recognise Miro. She was the one in Ash's bed. Anyway, on with the story**

[tempistopps]

(somewhere in a vast desert cave)

Thoughts gathered in tempist's mind about all the things that had happened, thoughts of his time in tse, thoughts of his time wandering the universe looking for answers....all the people he had effected in his life.... he remembered his master, Miryan and the great things he had taught him; his love, demonnight, and all they had been through.... his father.......
A tear formed in the corner of his eye, as it all flodded into his head. So many things he had tried to forget, so much pain he had to remove. Once he could use the pain as fuel for fights, but now it did nothing but hurt him more. He wanted to end it. He wanted to remove the anger and torment for good, and now they are a part of him, a very large one. He saw only one way to remove them... to remove himself.
He drew the ainchent blade forged by his father, and closed his eyes. "Why have you forsaken me?" he screamed into the empty space. "Leave me be!" and with that, he stabed the blade hard into his torso, going all the way through. With his last bit of strenth he pulled it up, making a large gash in his broken body. The broken shell of a warior lay there alone in the room. The corpse bagan to melt into a puddle of metalic looking liquid, as it could not hold its form any longer. Without that spark of life a shapeshifter cannot hold a form. The puddle receded into a shallow pool, then sizzled into nothingness.

ooc: its a possibility, i still dont know what im gonna do with him

[Lady DeVille]

Tondry shifted on her feet, hand already on her lightsaber hilt. Forty-seven she might have been, but her body was in excellent shape for battle, should it come down to that. Jeseth was nearby, and she could sense his presence off to her left, moving slowly away from her.

She spoke softly, knowing that he could hear her. "I once followed the same path as you do now. I mentored you in the Force, and in turn, I learned from you as well." Lilaena began walking, following Jeseth's Force signature slowly. "Many things I have done, and there are things I still have yet to do. I have worked to right the wrongs I committed as a Dark Jedi, and searched, as you say, for a resolution to the galaxy's every shifting balance of power. Do you know what, Cloak?"

Lilaena stood still in the middle of the darkening street, hands at her sides, hood over her head. Cloak had stopped advancing before her, and his sense became jumbled. As she talked, Tondry searched for him. "I have found resolution. You see, the shifting was not really in the galaxy, it was inside my soul. And I have found a place for my soul to rest. I am at peace, Cloak. As you can be as well." Where are you...? Her eyes searched the growing gloom of the desert city.

[Jax Ivanrue Tondry]

Jax flipped the comm off, and drummed his fingers on the control panel. The TIE Infiltrator he sat in had once been named My Vengence, but the callsign had been changed for some time. It was now christened Salvation, and it was as old as dirt.

Well, not quite that old, but outdated, to be sure. At least, that was what people were supposed to think when they saw it. Jax had personally updated the entire ship's systems three years ago with some assistance from his mother. But from the outside it still looked like a twenty year old TIE. He got to his feet, standing just as tall as his father at six foot one inch, and straightened his shirt. The fact that his mother wanted to spend some more time on Tatooine alone didn't really bother him. The fact that she seemed so...on edge about something did.

Jax walked to the common room and drew his saber to him with the Force. He activated a remote, and began to run through some simple exercises with his eyes closed lightly. As soon as I pass the test into Knighthood, I'm joining my father in the NRSF. He couldn't wait... well, he could, but he didn't really want to. His mother, Lilaena, had made him promise to finish his training before he ran off to the New Republic, and Jax intended to keep that promise.

It was just...taking too long. He slashed the remote with the light green saber, and it fell, smoking, to the floor. Deactivating the saber, Jax opened his eyes, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Frelling Jina Jade didn't have to run through these krasst smelling exercises anymore. Although, she probably did, just to please her 'father.' He rolled his eyes, and then frowned. No good being childish about it. He fell back into a seat, bumping the holochess table with his knee.

Fearsome creatures sprang to existence, growling and salivating at each other. Jax flipped the board off with the Force, and the three inch high figures disappeared. Jade was the thorn in his side. Whatever he did, she was doing already, and if not, she learned it quicker than he did. In the current batch of padawan learners in the Jedi Temple, Jade and Tondry were known as the brightest pupils, and the ones with the most promise. Her master was Morgan Evanar, and he was...lenient with her. Probably had something to do with her father, Q'Dunn, being the most famous Jedi Master in their lifetime.

Jax Tondry's master, Jyanis Scorpion, was a difficult taskmaster, who believed that hard work brought about character and would shape Tondry into the next Luke Skywalker. If it wasn't one thing, it was something else, and Tondry had been kept on his toes from day one. Jade, on the other hand, had always had free reign of the Temple, and came and went as she pleased. Tondry had a strict curfew, and barely saw his parents - not even his mother, and she was always visiting the temple. Jade lived with her adopted father. Tondry lived with his master, and although he was getting a basic training in military ops at the same time as Force instruction...it was wearying after a while. A Jedi depends on the Force for strength, and is patient in all things. Patience was a virtue Tondry thought he had much of. He had even more now, after Scorpion had gotten a hold of him.

Jina and Jax were friends, or had been, but their early friendship as teens had grown into an unconscious rivalry that everyone could see. Jax sighed, running his hand over his short, military cut hair. He deserved the test to Knighthood as much as she did, and had worked harder for it, but Jade had been given the opportunity already, and had passed. Of course.

Scorpion had finally given him some much deserved time off, in the disguise of escorting the Jedi Master Tondry to Tatooine. Mother and son were pleased to have time together, although she was leaving him in orbit, for whatever reason. His concern for her returned, banishing thoughts of the irrepressible Jina Jade.

[Count Mordrid]

"You know, he knew you'd come." Tondry turned around, looking into the face of Mordrid. "That's why he's here." The Dark Jedi had been Jeseth's pupil all these years since he had been ressurected... and despite the obvious difference in skill leve, Mordrid was and always had been dangerous - dangerous, and very caniving. Jeseth seemed to be gone npw, his Force signature dissapating into the wind as Mordrid began to glance down at his opponents lightsaber, his own weapon already drawn and awaiting ignition. "My master has trained me well. Do you beleive your own abilities are enough to beat me to press of this button? Remember, Tondry, I'm not like Jeseth... I'm faster. Much faster."

The man grinned, his white pearly teeth reflecting back the orange and pink shades of light which rained down upon his features. Mordrid's one commendable trait, aside from his keen senses, was his speed. He could at times utilize the Force to travel so quickly that his motions failed to register in the eyes of most as anything more than a blur. That was how he had earned his title as Dark Jedi... "Now draw your weapon, and meet your destiny. My only orders are to bring you back alive... Jeseth mentioned nothing about having to leave you unharmed. Who would miss your arms and legs?"

[Teka Kenobi]

No. I don’t have relationships with dogs. Not quite my type.

Teka chuckled to himself and approached a stall. Now in the market place he looked at the foods arranged neatly in rows and columns. He took a fruit and flipped a chip into the man’s hand before walking away and eating it. He could see Darius was still behind him. This did not bother him. The young Sith was to caught up with not doing the same as his father, to attack Teka.

So why are you here, Darius?

[Darius Van Derveld]

"I'm hilariously bored. That's why I'm here."

The Sith Empire was virtually no more, although some members had spawned new smaller groups. Darius kept to himself most of the time, living at Mount Hyperion on his families planet of Helios. His sister was dead, as were every other member of the Van-Derveld's who'd ever lived. Life had become a wonderful bore.

"Plus, I do believe I'm free to go where I wish," he snorted.

[Teka Kenobi]

Oh really? Well that's good for you.

He bit into his apple like fruit and walked on further into the market place. Sighing he turned around to face Darius and walked back in the direction he came.

[Lady DeVille]

Lilaena looked at the man facing her, and weighed her options. A part of her urged her to ignite her saber and press the attack, but she quieted it. He was already inside her reach, and ready to dismember her.

The woman drew her hand out from her cloak, slowly, eyes fixed on her opponent's. His hand twitched, but the saber did not ignite. Lilaena let her hands fall to her sides. "There is no need for us to fight. Take me to him."

The blond man, hair greying at the temples, frowned and then spat on her, reaching roughly inside her robe and grabbing her saber from her belt. She half smiled as she wiped the spittle from her cheek.

[Force Master Hunter]

They both walked donw the street, she in her basic jumpsuit she favored, he in a black trench coat. He wasn't all that tall, but he exluded menace. or maybe it was the guns, but everyone stayed clear.

"So, how's the new Commander in Chief?" she asked

"Blarg. Went to my first Inner Council meeting a week ago and hated every moment. I really hate these political animals, I really do. It's no place for a soldier"

"I can just imagine. Who did you threaten to shoot first?"

He turned his head and his face had a smile on it. "Some Bothan who already hated me. Actually drew and had it pointed right at his beady eyes. You should have seen The President's reaction, after she calmed the situation. She even passed me a note of thanks for the laugh"

"Be careful Father. Your not playing in your own battleground, your playing by their rules"

"No.... I'm not. I'm playing by my rules. A rumour got out"

She grinned. "That rumour again?"

"Yep. They dont like it one bit, even if I did deny it"

"Your incorrigable father, you really are. Your going to get yourself into trouble you know"

Hunter sighed. "Jina, I've been in trouble from every authority for longer than I can remember. Pissing off the Inner Council isn't going to bother me"

"You ever thought that your enemies in the Senate try to draw you in so they can keep a closer eye on you?"

"Yep. No more than I would have done. But enough of that... how's my Jedi Knight Daughter?"

"She's fine!" Jina replied with a laugh "Thank you for coming to my Promotion by the way. It meant a lot to me and I know how busy you are"

Hunter actually seemed embarrased. "Wouldn't have missed it Jina. Just dont go defying the Council like your father does. And thinking of promotions, is Pierce's boy nearly ready yet? You two were pretty much the best Padawans.

A shadow seemed to pass over her face. "Jax... yes, well. You know what i think of him. Stuck up mummy's boy. Jyanis should kick his backside a bit more"

He laughed. "Nice, Jina, nice. And you two were so close when you were young"

"Dont bloody remind me" she snarled.

[Nathan W3st]

"I frellin hate deserts!"

West wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, the air was only just begining to cool, now that the sun had set.

"They're my favorite stinking place in the galaxy too, Broom. Yes, 'if you ever have me do anything with another desert, I will make your life very uncomfortable.' Duly noted, Commander." He went quiet for a bit. "You ready to scare the beans out of our wannabe?"

"Yes, the sooner..." Broom squinted. "Target, five-hundred meters."

They crouched down, raising their rifles, and their scopes to their eyes.

"Fire."

Dust and dirt kicked up around Jax as he dove for cover. West and Broom simply comphensated as he hit the ground, and one neatly tagged him in the throat, and the other in the forhead. Tondry coughed and gagged a bit, observed the NRSF officers as they lowered their scopes.

Jax was dusting himself off as the pair jogged to a halt.

"Not too bad, but try for a handspring next time. Most snipers wouldn't know what to do with you after that."

The young man sighed, and wiped the red paint off of his forehead.

"What if I had jumped into..."

"Into your speeder?" Broom wistled, and out walked Olaf, grinning through his full beard and glasses, waving the detonator in his hand.

Jax shook his head. "You weren't actually going to blow up the speeder?"
There was a gushing sound, and paint coated the interior of the speeder.

"Don't worry, it'll clean itself." West said.

[Jax Ivanrue Tondry]

Jax had just touched Salvation down and was extending the ramp to descend to the planet's surface. He had been told to stay in orbit, but part of being a Jedi was intuition, and he knew that he should be down there. Something was wrong. Padawan or no, he also knew he could help Master Tondry out if she needed it.

As he strode off the TIE, Jax's danger sense flared, and he dove for cover. Unfortunetly for him, there was no cover right next to him, and he was hit in the forehead and neck with...red paint balls. The Force quieted, danger being a thing of the past, and he got to his feet as Nathan West and the Bothan called "Broom" jogged up to him.

The twenty year old wiped the paint from his forehead, and sighed as Olaf blew the charges in the speeder that was waiting for him. "I should have known. Handspring, eh? I'll remember that one." The trio of men grinned at him, knowing full well that they had caught him completely off guard.

Jax grinned at these men he looked up to, and then frowned. "What are you doing here on Tatooine, sir?" He addressed West. "Is my father here with you?"

[Rama Sha]

*KA-THUD*


:: Rama smashed his own head into the glass like susbtance again. He rubbed his head across the glass. It made the horrible noise of something dry rubbing across the Glass. ::

" MIster Sha!"

::A Voice cracked over an Intercom. Rama looked up slightly, head still pressed firmly against the glass, at the Man who sat on the other side of the glass. It was from him these words came ::


"Do you want to countiune this session or not?"

:: Rama leaned back in his chair, he was wearing a standard two piece Prison jump suit. Around his neck was a large metal collar. It had two lights on it....one green.......one red. At the present the green was lite. The only light in the room was coming from the small window behind which the doctor sat. ::


Hey how about you losen this collar a bit.

"Nice try Mister Sha, that collar is keeping you from using your powers to escape."

Thats why I want it off.

"You were telling me about your wife and child last time, why don't you tell me some more."


@#%$ you!


"Mister Sha.....If you wish to some day be cured, then you need to answer my questions."

Cured...:: Rama laughed. ::

"Lets moved on to something else."

:: A large screen just above the small window lite up, on it an Ink blot. ::

"Tell me what you see."


A head.....


"Good"

........your head in fact. Smashed against the window. Blood dripping down.

:: The Dr Gave Rama a cold stare then hit a button the screen turned off and went dark, and a large metal cover came down over the window. Rama began to laugh insanely as the room went dark ::

[Force Master Hunter]

They walked along the dusty road for a few moments, before his mind switched to the business at hand.

“Tell me the set up Jina. What are we expecting?”

“Jerbba, notorious gangster and slave trader. Got him convinced I’m a lightweight bit of fluff, local official looking for a kickback. Got him cold on glit and slave trade. So how do we do this? The easy way, the hard way… or your way?”

Hunter smirked. “My way”

“Ooooooh frell. Remember last time we did that?”

“Yeah, they didn’t find enough of that Dark Jedi to put in an envelope”

She sighed. “I love a lot Father, but sometimes your just far too reckless, even for my liking. You really should consider the risks you take”

“Spoken like a true Jedi Jina” There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice. “But I’ve been taking risks all my life. I hardly know how to do anything else”

“That’s what worries mother and I. She wonders when you leave Yavin whether she will see you again”

“Oh and SHE’s one to talk about risk taking! She the worst person for taking chances I have ever seen”

“And you love her for it” Jina replied.

“Yeah.. well” He even looked slightly embarrassed.

“Was it true you two got caught in the Council room..”

“That will be enough Jina” he interrupted. She just smirked.

Not long after, they got to the front entrance of the place the Hutt lived in. Hunter regarded the doors, then the guards, mentally marking their positions and visible weapons. He thought about what he had seen as Jina walked up to the checkpost, to talk her way in. He noted she was playing the empty headed bimbo and making good headway. He just stood there until the conversation turned to him.

“And who is this?” asked the guard

“You don’t need to know who I am” he replied. The guard shrugged “Nah, don’t need to know who you are. All right, your clear to proceed. Jerbba is holding court, corridor to the right, go to the end. He should only keep you waiting a few hours. Good day to you”. They nodded as they walked past, through the gates and into the cool darkness beyond. Jina picked a comm. Link out of her pocket, spoke a single word into it before placing it back in her pocket. Hunter looked at her curiously. But didn’t choose to comment.

They eventually came to a place where there was a line up of beings. A few guards blocked the doors. A swell of music and voices could be heard from inside. Jina and Hunter glanced at each other. “Your way still Father?”

“My way” He pulled out one of his much loved Rail Guns, Mk 3. Still the deadliest hand gun in production, it was almost impossible for someone other than the NRSF to get one. Which was a good thing, considering how many beings had ended their existence due to a projectile spat from the barrel. The Council also frowned on Hunter using these things as well, but he didn’t care. They had saved his life plenty of times and he wouldn’t let them go for anything. He walked up to thw guards, who were looking rather annoyed. One even pointed a pike at him, indicating for Hunter to get in line.

“You! Jerbba only sees those you will wait for his Eminance! In line!”

“Your fatness will see me… NOW. The name Is Force master Hunter and no slug makes me wait. Clear?”

He could see the guards consternation. Hunter walked up and simply pushed the pike aside, Jina breath hissing as she inhaled sharply. “Oh no…”

The second guard came at him with his pike. Hunter’s free hand swept up, grabbed the handle, then with a twist of the wrist, ripeed it out of the stunned guards fingers. Guard one barely moved before the rail gun fired, a sharp Crack! followed by a wet bang as the guard’s upper body just about disintegrated, blood and worse flying everywhere. Guard two stood still in terror. The waiting symopaths aloo also froze. Hunter dropped the pike, before walking boldly into the room beyond, which was now suddenly silent. Ina sighed as she reached for her lightsabre. Father never changed.

In the room itself, there could be seem a few slaves, some guard who were all wondering what to do, a band, some miscellaneous servants and the fat, ugly slug of a Hutt himelf. The slug’s eyes squinted at the male human who had dared just walked in, trying to work this out.

“What are you in here?” It yelled

“Shut up. Your under arrest”

Jina winced.

“This is funny! Who do you think you are little man?!?!’ shouted back the Hutt in it’s own revolting language. Hunter replied back in Huttese.

“General Tohmahawk your great Fatness. You are directed to surrender for crimes against the New Republic and it’s citizens” The second rail gun came out of it’s holster, as he changed his stance to cover behind him. “And anyone who doesn’t drop their weapons right now earns fatso here a gaping hole”

The sound of a lightsabre activating leant weight to his words, Jina bringing her brilliant purple blade out and also covering Hunter’s back.

“EEEEAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!! KILL THEM BOTH! KILL THEMM….ggggaaaarrrr…”

It was the Hutt’s last words, as the Rail Gun opened up, expelling it’s entire clip. There wasn’t much left after the bits of flesh and worse landed on the ground. Those behind the Hutt got a more than decent coating of Hutt guts. Jina chose not to look. Some of the beings in the room were noisily ill. Hunter turned, reloading the gun as he did, then levelling both straight at the crowd.

“Who’s next?”

There was a clatter as weapons and other devices were dropped.

“Right, everyone, one line, out the door. There are waiting NR troops there. Any resistance will be met with lethal results – now OUT!” ordered Jina. As the scum departed, most with hands on heads, Hunter moved over to Jina and asked her a question quietly.

“There are troops outside? I was only bluffing”

Jina looked disgusted. “Father, unlike you, I believe in something called backup. The whole place was surrounded, NRSF no less. Like to go outside and say hello?”

He laughed as he spun a gun on a finger, placing it back in the holster. “Okay. Did you bring a sponge crew as well?”

“Your getting old dad. You never leave enough of anything for a sponge to be effective” She took a quick glance at the goo that was the remains of the Hutt, turned away. She sometimes was uncomfortable with her father’s policy of shoot first and count the bodies later, although this Hutt had it coming.

It was beginning to go towards dusk when the got out side. Her manner changed from casual to strict military as a heavily armed sergeant came forward to them.

“Area secure Major Jade. We have found 87 illegal slaves and 15 kilo’s of glit. We are presently certain that there will be a lot more. Our Hutt, is he subdued?”

“Well, if I introduce this man here, you will be able to work it out. Sargent, this is General Tohmahawk”

“Ohh..” The trooper almost swore, before snapping to attention and saluting. “SAH!”

“None of that Farrrait. You know well what I think of this Banthashit”

“Yes sir! I mean, damn it’s good to see you again! Soldiers, it’s our General! Look lively now!” As the assembled being that were NRSF soldiers turned in curiosity and recognised Tohmahawk, there was a more intense bustle, a striving to be noticed. Even with Tohmahawk now no longer the direct commander of the NRSF, he was “Their General” and had inspired an almost fanatical loyalty. “Well Major, if it was Our General, there would a red smear and not much else. We would have liked to have got some questioning done, but I suppose it wouldn’t have worked anyway”

“I’m quite certain Major Jade would have already gotten anything the Hutt could have told you. Am I correct?”

“Yes sir. SpecOps knows all there is about this Hutt. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have invited you here General. I know what your like”

That was true. In the Galaxy, he had made a name for himself as a man without mercy, who shot first, who had behind him an army that swept all before it in battle, a caustic bad ass. It was getting to the point where his name would be enough for enemies to run or surrender, rather than face what could happen. He commanded the absolute loyalty of his troops and even lead Jedi to battle. There was a persistent rumour that he was a Jedi himself, something he denied at every opportunity.

But of course… he knew the truth. Tohmahawk, Hunter were nothing more than well built identities for what he really was.

The man the Galaxy knew as the Commander in Chief of the New Republic, decorated war hero, General James T. Tohmahawk was the Jedi Warlord, Marcus Q’Dunn. Hardly even the Jedi themselves knew that.

As he walked away, with Jina at his side giving orders to the troops (She was a Jedi Knight, but she was also a Major in Intelligence, code named Shadow Wraith), he had an odd thought come to hi mind.

I wonder how the Ravenwings are going? I haven’t seen or heard of them for some time

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya twirled the medallion in front of her, letting the artificial light dance off the polished metals. Her blue eyes no longer sparkled as they once had...zest for life had been replaced long ago by the duties of state. She sat on an obsidian throne in a vaulted room which extended twenty-five yards before her.

It was totally empty. Just as her life had become.

The children were in boarding schools on the other side of the planet. Her husband was probably drunk again, and still asleep in his gaudy bedroom. She replaced the medallion around her neck, nestling the token of office between her breasts. It hung like a chain of imprisionment around her. Lifting her left hand, still youthful, even as she was nearing the age of fifty, Arya studied the large wedding ring on her third finger.

The platinum band was studded with small diamonds, and centered with a large blue stone. To match my eyes... A lonely tear rolled off the end of her nose. Her husband, Derrik, had taken her name after the wedding twelve years ago. He had not managed to take anything else from her.

Arya kept him in the style to which he was accustomed, and he largely left her alone. Their marriage had produced three healthy children, artificially planted in her womb. Derrik...well, krasst if she would let him touch her. The intimacy they had consisted of the token kiss at the wedding.

When she had, with the help of...of... Arya couldn't bring herself to think his name. It was too hard, even now, so many years since. When they had found her homeplanet, the citzens had been overjoyed. At last a Ravenwing had returned to claim the throne! After thirty odd years of oppression under hurtful regents and kings they were eager for change. Arya had been pressed into the crown, and seen her freedom slip through her fingers.

And not just her freedom, but at the same time she had lost the love of the one man who she cared about. Another tear joined the first, staining her dress of state with a damp splotch. Her hair was long, and done up in the proper style befitting a queen. Her face had lost none of its youth. The perks of being of a shapeshifting race...one never had to look one's age. But it took so much energy to shift, that it was rarely ever done, except in emergencies. Small changes, like erasing wrinkles, were simple and even expected.

Arya tugged at the long, full skirted dress, and sighed. So much had changed. And now nothing ever changed. She felt like she was going insane.

[Darth Turbogeek]

The ship landed quietly, a black YT-2400 light freighter. The rain that had just started drummed a light tattoo on the roof and onto the canopy. The lone occupant, a medium sized male, dressed in a fairly well tailored travelling jumpsuit, complete with cape and black leather boots went about the business of securing the ship after landing. He also touched the arming relays for a quick start in case he needed to use it. It was more out of habit than anything that he did, a habit ingrained from the days when he had travelled the Galaxy at the beginning of his life. With Jeseth and other of the Black Hand, learning to be a Dark Jedi. All that was left of those days were the reminders of how it had ended. In violence and defeat. He glanced at his forearm, an exposed mass of metal and motor, fully artificial and the best the Galaxy could offer. The same with everything beneath his left knee. The final battle had been extraordinary and had almost torn a planet in half… but he had lost it to the Man With No Colour. Still never found out who he was, but Darth Turbogeek knew well what he himself was.

A Clone. Just a mere clone of the man who ironically had cut his arm and leg off. He could have just gone to pieces and admitted full defeat – but he hadn’t. He had instead set himself on the road to recovery, with a woman who would nor could ever love him at his side, his best friend. Had gone and become a smuggler of – incredibly – medical supplies and equipment. Him, a Dark Jedi of sorts, reduced to smuggling Jeseth had snorted. And being paid to heal as well!

Well, it had been hard. There was the struggle to break in, the fights, the assassinations. He had put his training to good use, killing all who opposed him or got in the way of a deal. He developed an ability to sneak through any security and to get away with the most audacious theft. After year’s struggle, the credits had begun to come his way… and in five years he had built up a smuggling ring to beat them all. Only medical equipment, but he had even begun to encroach on official channels, he was so effective.

And now…. He was only twenty years old, or twenty years after he had came out of the cloning tank and here he was, sitting on a pile of credits that frankly amazed him still, in control of a ring that had cornered the market on medicine. He had even beaten out Perent Enterprises. TMS was even legit to a great degree. Amazing.

He travelled the Galaxy now using the incredible healing abilities, which was his real Force power. He could restore health in all but the most hopeless cases, rebuild limbs, patch skin, cure disease – and the rich payed him. He had to grin. Jeseth had told him how the Sith and Dark Jedi used power and gained control. Jeseth was wrong. Control something the Galaxy needed and you had them by the short and curlies. Strange however the name of Turbogeek, once a feared Jedi Master, then Dark Jedi, was now associated with well being. To be honest, he probably could have taken another name, but Turbogeek just seemed to…. Work.

The landing lights went out, the field only lit by floodlights that cut through the rain. He personally didn’t like wet weather, but he did like cold. This place he had come to was cold right now. Well, even with the rain he thought, he better get this over and done with. Do what he came here for. And then leave and likely never see her again. She had been his only friend and even shared a bed. But never real love. That had caused the blazing argument 10 years ago and he had sworn never to set foot on the planet she ruled. But… here he was. And he was going to apologise to Arya Ravenwing and close a chapter in his life.

He lowered the ramp, got out and used a handheld remote to secure the ship. Pausing to gather himself, he ran across the exosed field to where a small covered speeder was waiting. He leaped in the open door, closing it benid him. The rumpble of rain became muted as he looked who was in here.

“Ahhh, Kevvack! How are you?”

“Very good sir. It has been quite some time since your last visit, I was most surprised when I got your message that you were coming. How is business sir?”

“Very good Kevvack, very good. I have noticed profit in this sector is good. Well done”

“Thank you sir. Where can I take you?”

“To the Palace”

“Sir is full of surprises today. Any reason you wish to go there?”

“I wish to pay the Queen a visit”

“Most full of surprises. Very well Sir”

He sat back as the speeder moved off. It was more Arya’s bloody fault the whole argument started, but he didn’t really care. In some ways this was being done with it all and moving on.

It didn’t take long for the speeder to reach the Palace. It was quiet and there was few guards. This planet – not this whole sector was peaceful. Then again, there was rumoured to be big time NR support for Ravenwing, which would scare off any trouble maker. He tipped Kevvack, before exiting. He ducked over to an archway that had no one manning it, quietly tapped in an old code he had. To his utter surprise, it worked. And he had feeling from the Force that this was possibly a trap. Odd.

He knew his way around this place. It had been his base after Arya had become Queen. He had been here in the early years, had seen her marry, had even helped deliver the first child. Named…. Gah. It was soo bloody obvious she still had hopes for him . She had been foolish.

Eventually he got to where the old throne room was. He didn’t pause, he touched the door release with his mechanical hand and walked straight in.

There she was. Just as beautiful as he remembered. He marched straight to the first step of the dias and ignoring her absoluty startled and stunned look, he bowed low, even dipped to one knee.

“Lady Arya, I seek forgiveness for our argument years ago” He got up without bidding and looked straight into her face. To his surprise he saw… tears. And a trembling lip.

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya stood to her feet, years of depression coming to a head. "Turb..." Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes. Through the Force she could see Turbogeek standing to his feet, looking confused, much has he had during the first few years of their friendship. Her features creased into a lop-sided smile, which dissolved into tears.

She walked down the steps, and threw her arms around him, burying her tear streaked face in his warm neck. His arms hesitantly went around her, and then tightened. "I am the one who is sorry..." Arya spoke over his shoulder, and then drew back from the embrace. "I- I never thought I'd see you again. I've regretted my words for such a long time."

[Darth Turbogeek]

He was, to put it blunty, shocked. He expected anger. He expected the cold shoulder. He never expected Arya to break donw right in his arms.

And he really didn't know what to do. Turbogeek was a hard edged man, with very little sympathy for anything and cared little for other beings, or at least hadn't for the last ten years. The old feeling he had for this woman began to stir - but even then, they were faint echoes of what was in the past. Time had taken care of the rest. Or had it?

She had been his only friend when he had nothing. "Arya... I really shouldn't have said what I did either. It was silly and I see that now."

It was kind of an awkward moment's silence.

"How is your life now?"

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth sealed the hatchway of his ship as he entered, the hiss fading away behind him as the door came to a full close. Mordrid would be able to bring her back, even if he was lacking in his abilities. He had trained his apprentice well - but he was just a pawn. Jeseth had no intention of keeping Mordrid around much longer. He was senile, and on the average became exceptionally useless as anything more than a courier or a thief. He wanted an apprentice who would grow, not a slave. Turbogeek had completed his training long ago, and no longer needed a teacher. All his other students had failed him, except Mordrid - Mordrid, the puppet...


Hunter has a daughter.

The thought came to him out of the blue. Hunter had a daughter, and he was here on Tatooine... but could he could lure her out from her father's side? Jeseth wasn't confident that he was a match for Hunter. He would have to give the idea more thought... A flash of insight pierced his thoughts. He saw Mordrid striking De'Ville.

Bring her to me now, Mordrid. Enough games. We are short on time as it is...

[Count Mordrid]

Mordrid sneered. He despised the woman so much, yet Jeseth thought her to be so valuable. He had only raised his hand to slap her and already his master had called him back. She was obviously calm, which pushed him to hate her all that much more. "You could make a run for it, and try to escape." Mordrid's hand was still itching against his saber. He wanted any excuse to kill her, but it would have to be a valid one.

"Lets go. You can have your little taste of victory this time. Jeseth won't always be around to keep you out of harm's way. The Fold wants you dead. They don't know he's come to bring you back alive." Thoughts of betrayal filled his head, as they always did, but he wouldn't betray Jeseth yet. He would need a reason to justify his actions in the eyes of the rest of the Dark Brotherhood...

[Fiire Hazzard]

Fire came up behind Jeseth, placing her slender arms around his shoulders. "Don't fret. He'll be here."

"I know," came the Dark Jedi's response. His hand still to his chin as if he were lost in thought. She remembered the first time she awoke, only to find him there just in that position, watching her. He was all she had ever known, outside of a few others at Bast. None of them approved of her. They all harbored some grievances with her. Most of them because of past associations. Jeseth explained it to her, that she was not a real person, merely a clone of an original person, a person who was once a Jedi. She felt no sadness as a result of that fact. She was herself, and nothing more. A clone or not, she was alive.

"Why did you create me?" She seemed a bit hesitant to ask, but Jeseth wasn't at all phased by the question, he sighed and looked up at her.

"I don't know. I was alone. I needed a companion... and so I turned to you." His eyes were sad. "You've been some kind of a friend to me since then... Does that displease you?"

"No, it doesn't." She hugged him softly, knowing that his heart had been taken by another... by that woman who died before she was born - Nya was her name. Jeseth had a holo of her in his study. "I'm glad you turned to me."

But you keep me at such a distance... I might never forgive you for that.

Her smile slipped away, her lips moving into a frown. She shoved him forward against the ships controls and ran out of the room, sealing herself up in her quarters.

[Lady DeVille]

Lilaena Tondry walked beside the creature of anger and fear, and felt a tinge of sadness, even pity for him. They threaded their way through the outer streets of the city, Mordrid leading her, although barely containing himself. The man was very unstable.

During her time with the Black Hand, Tondry had known how unstable Aaron Grimm was...and how much more unstable Mordrid was in his body. Lilaena folded her hands, and followed him, her eyes on her lightsaber that he held, and her mind sharp and aware of her surroundings.

Jeseth wants me alive? Perhaps he thinks he can turn me back...Or perhaps he wants to gloat before he tries to kill me. She was not sure why he did not allow Mordrid to harm her, but she was pretty sure she'd find out. Now if Jax can just stay in orbit like I asked....

[Arya Ravenwing]

She sniffed and straightened to her full height, regaining an ounce of regal bearing as she drew back from him. "My life is..." Arya sighed, and sat on the steps in front of her throne, beckoning Turbogeek to join her. He sat, and she scrubbed her hands over her face.

"I hate my life. The only thing I enjoy are my children, and they aren't even around anymore." She smiled bravely, and turned towards him. "What about you? What are you up to these days?"

[Marcus Telcontar]

It didn’t take long for the cleanup crew to finish off their searches and to unearth the rest of the slaves and drugs the crime lord had in his palace. The final tally was 537 beings, now being taken to a New Republic processing centre and several tons of illegal substances and weapons. It was quite an impressive haul and Q’Dunn reflected, would serve to further Jina’s career no end. And as he was proud to know, she had done it on her own to the most. Jina had become a Jedi Knight without her father doing anything for her – in fact in the classes he taught Padawans (As Tohmahawk, combat of course), he had been much harder on her than other students. Made sure she never got anything undeserved and presented standards much higher than would be acceptable. She had passed them all.

The other thing she only ever seemed to want was to know ‘Hunter’ was pleased with her. That, he certainly was. His natural children, 3 with a fourth on the way were all impressive in their own way, but none had so far succeeded like Jina had. None had the drive or the will. Frell, even Q’Dunn didn’t have a wick burning his arse like Jina did and he had achieved it all. He was the Commander-in-Chief, had sat on the Jedi Council over two decades ago, led the NRSF in their rampages and had even attained a rank in the Jedi that hadn’t been given for centuries, of Warlord. Tohmahawk, the Black Panther, feared and loathed by his enemies, which were numerous respected and even loved by the troops he led.

Still, he would give it up in a blink for one day with his Helenais on a beach of his home planet. It was all worthless in the end if he still didn’t desire that more than anything. Hopefully, Jina would learn that one day too – some things were more important than fame and fortune. It was probably her only failing.

That and a dislike for Jax Tondry. Q’Dunn in some ways could understand that, because he could sit back and see why. Both Jina and Jax were highly driven, both had famed parents and much to live up to. They were both skilled and intelligent, it was no wonder they clashed like they did. The last time Q’Dunn had taken his family to visit the Tondry’s both Jax and Jina almost refused to be in the same room. He and Lilaena had a decent laugh over it.

“Father….HUNTER!”

He snapped out of his thoughts. “Yes?”

“Dinner? I know a good place….. what’s wrong?” She looked at the sudden change in expression, the tensing and relaxing of certain muscles that gave away Q’Dunn had suddenly switched to second gear.

“I…. don’t know” he said frowning. “Something feels…. Uncertain” His hand was straying for his back, reaching under his trench coat. Jina quite abruptly went onto alert too as a response. “Back to our rooms. I need to change into something more appropriate…. And to grab… it”

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth rose up from the ships controls, letting out an exasperated sigh. Even the clone of Fire Hazzard had a temper to match the original. Sometimes, it was impossible to understand the woman. He was somewhat used to it, but that still didn't mean he liked it any better. In the few minutes that had gone by, Mordrid had managed to come around. The weak and over-confident aura was one that Jeseth wouldn't ever misplace, but it was shadowed by a much more powerful and less-familiar one. De'Ville... It's been a long time, hasn’t it? The bond that he shared with her, while weaker than it had been years before, was still in place to some degree. He could touch to her mind just slightly... as she could reach into his with equal clarity.

The loading ramp hissed open. A smile crept up on his face as he felt a flash of insight.


Hiss.


Fiire came back in, her face still flush with anger. "She's here." The red-headed clone continued to gaze at him. Her eyes had narrowed a bit. She was waiting for a reason to walk off again…

"Thank you." Jeseth rose up out of the pilot's seat, placing his gloved hand upon Fiire's shoulder as he passed her, entering the ship's quarters and continuing back towards the loading bay. "Are you coming?" He stopped to look back at her just for a moment.

[Fire Hazzard]

"Yeah, I'm coming..." Fiire bit her tongue, keeping herself from saying anything she might regret. Normally, she didn't give a damn what anyone thought about her, but Jeseth wasn't someone she wanted to upset. He was all she really had, and when it came right down to it, she didn't really want to hurt his feelings. They walked into the loading bay, watching Mordrid come up the ramp with De'Ville. Jeseth was formal with the Jedi bitch. He even kissed her hand (cautiously), and to Fiire it was the thought that counted. She just nodded at her. "Hey... nice to see you again." Her voice carried an edge. Not.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Tondry walked up the ramp into Jeseth's ship, Mordrid at her side, mumbling under his breath. She did not recognize the ship, but that was Cloak's style. He never had the same ship for long, which made his movements around the galaxy that much harder to trace.

Her movements were easy, but her senses were extended, and she was alert -ready for the danger. There were two beings on board the ship, both of whom she recognized. One was Jeseth Cloak. The other...was dead. Mordrid stopped walking as soon as he was fully inside the ship, and Lilaena halted next to him. Her lightsaber was still in his hand, his knuckles whitening around it. He caught her looking over, and he sneered at her, moving as though he would strike her again.

Footsteps in the passage made him pause, and Mordrid backed away slightly, lip still curled in disdain. Lilaena had been tracking the movements of the lifeforms, and was not surprised to see Cloak and a woman enter the room. The fact that the woman appeared to be Fire Hazzard, sister of the Jedi Master Sage Hazzard, who had died at the hands of Jeseth himself over twenty years ago... Lilaena had sensed her, but not believed it until now.

She nodded slowly at Cloak's greeting, and pulled her hand away when he tried to kiss it. The woman, Fire Hazzard, didn't seem any more sincere than the Dark Jedi. "Hey... nice to see you again." Her body language said the exact opposite.

"It is surprising to see you here, Fire." She turned to Jeseth, but she had no questions in her eyes. It was logical that this Fire Hazzard look-a-like was a clone. He had dabbled in cloning even while she was still at the Black Hand, the Darth Turbogeek clone being his most memorable achievement. His reasons for this woman being cloned would likely remain a mystery. Jeseth was not one to air his dirty laundry.

And right now, Lilaena didn't much care. The fact that there were three Force sensitive beings surrounding her, and all were dark... that was a little more disconcerting. "Cloak, let us get to the point. Why have you brought me here?" She folded her hands in front of her, drawing the Light into her.

[Jeseth Cloak]

<font size=1>[OOC: Hey! <a href=http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=8587>Jeseth killed Fire Hazzard!</a> :p]
</font>

Jeseth narrowed his eyes as Tondry pulled her hand away, his half-smile fading away. What kind of question was she asking him?? "Why have I brought you here? Why don't you tell me. You've always been bright enough to figure these things out for yourself, haven't you? Perhaps the others gave up on you, but I still haven't. You have a destiny to fulfill. How could you walk among the followers of the Light?" Jeseth's emotions were bubbling to the surface, memories overflowing as he saw flashes of his attempts at following that path she claimed to now walk. He saw the bright flash of light all over again... Anbira's brilliant blast. It had sent him away, and for a while Jeseth had understood what it was to be one with the Force. It was worth nothing; in the end, you still faded... everyone did.

A collection of alloy parts erupted forth from a table within the loading bay, clattering to the ground and skimming to a halt. Most of them were too fragile to survive the sudden surge of energy intact. Jeseth's mind probed slightly against De'Ville's, trying to decipher her thoughts as closely as precisely as possible. He could sense that she was somewhat nervous, but was she afraid? Did she truly feel at peace with the galaxy, as so many blissfully ignorant Jedi still did? "You're trying to hide something, aren't you?" The hatch to his ship sealed behind her. The access code had been punched in somehow. Fiire made her way into the cockpit, settling down in the co-pilots chair. Mordrid was still watching the exchange between Cloak and De'Ville, anticipating something.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She stood quietly while the hatch sealed behind her, her nervousness betrayed only by a slight tightening of her lips. Lilaena held the Force inside her, prickling in her extremeties..keeping her warm in this ship of darkness. She could feel Jeseth probing at her mind, and concentrated on keeping the wall in place, keeping him out.

His mind was blank to her. For all of her years of training, Lilaena's ability to read minds, or control them in any way was drastically stunted compared to her other abilities. Fear is of the Dark Side. Fear had ruled her once, and anger and revenge had been her virtues. But she had changed. Tondry had changed her. As had - She frowned, keeping that name from her head. Jeseth must not learn he was here.

"I hide nothing...and everything." Lilaena stayed where she was, watching him as he stood across from her. "My path has changed from what it was. My destiny is still being realized. I walk with the Light, because I must. The Dark Side would have destroyed me long ago."

[Jeseth Cloak]

"It saddens me to here that you've chosen Death, Lilaena... but your child will learn better. The time has come for a new breed of Jedi to be born. Jedi that do not fear the darkness, and walk within it freely; Dark Jedi. Your son will be among the first... along with many others. He feels the darkness call to him deep in his heart. The memories I gave him long ago assured this. That was reason I watched him so vigilantly while he was younger... and that is the reason I must kill you now."

Jeseth's eyes were burning with anger. "This is the last show of compassion I will deliver to you. Death would be much kinder than the pain that would await you back at Vjun. Goodbye, Lilaena De'Ville." His hand came up, and a small orb of red light began to grow within his palm, quickly blossoming into an immense round sphere that was as blinding as the sun. More images flashed within Jeseth's mind of the moment of his own death at Anbira's hands. Let it not be said he learned nothing from the experience...

[Morgan Evanar]

Behind Jeseth, there was a loud growl. His head jerked back, and then was violently slammed to the ground. Morgan suddenly stood above the Dark Jedi. He had been following De'Ville for some time. Ever since his stay at the Sith Order, something about her made her important, and despite Cloak's focus on Jax, she still was. Whenever he got a feeling to keep an eye on her, he did. Most of the time, nothing happened. But now and again...

Outside the ship, the coolant lines slowly leaked valuable gas. Morgan had done some very proffesional level vibroblade work. If the engines were engaged, they would rupture, leaving the ship dead where it sat.

"You talk too much Jeseth."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena flipped her lightsaber up into her hand, facing Mordrid, whose emotions betrayed him to her. While Cloak had spoken about her son, her heart had strayed into fear for her son. A noble emotion, perhaps, yet doubly dangerous for her. It would be too easy to slip into old habits... all too easy... Cloak knew her weaknesses.

He also knew Jax's weaknesses. And what he said rang true. the red birthmark on her son's left shoulder was in the shape of a hand. It was the result of Sith magick, a curse she had placed on her unborn son while residing in Bast Castle. Forgive me.

She faced her death at Cloak's hands, and felt the pull of the Dark side, seducing her, dragging her to the easy out. And then Evanar appeared, and she was released from the pressure.

Lilaena nodded to Morgan, his stature of two plus metres making him the most impressive figure in the room, and turned back to Mordrid. She was ready to defend herself against Cloak and his weaker apprentice. Without anger. Evanar had showed up in the nick of time.

[Jax Ivanrue Tondry]

He looked away from Commander West, peering suddenly behind him, towards the city of Mos Eisley. "Something is going on over there. Past the city." Jax felt a surge in the Force, something dark that tainted him just to feel it, and flinched visibly. "Its my mother."

All the patience he had tried to learn from Master Scorpion melted away in a flash. Jax turned to West, his eyes coated with what could only be called an angry fear. "I have to go to her."

[Taylor Millard]

"Ah leave 'em alone Evanar," A gruff voice came from the bay door of the ship.

There stood an older man around 60. His short brown hair was greying heavily around the temples. His white face was heavily cracked, as if he'd seen more than a few wars, and survived every one. His blue eyes still contained the same clearness as a man three times his junior. The man...was Retired Grand Admiral Taylor Millard of the Imperial Navy.

He stood in a black jumpsuit, remenicent of his days as a Dark Jedi. But Millard didn't use the Force anymore. The retired Grand Admiral had better things to do. He'd married years prior, melting the heart of an icy woman and siring two children. One, was an Imperial pilot like his father was. The other, the daughter, joined the Great Jedi Order years ago. Millard still loved her, but was disppointed in her choice

Two troopers stood next to him, their white faceplates keeping their expressions hidden.

"Good to see you Mrs. Tondry," Taylor allowed his voice to lose its edge slightly, "I trust my daughter is well?"

Without waiting for her response, he said, "Let's go, out of the ship. I have transportation elsewhere.

"Oh you didn't know?" Millard's blue eyes moved to the Jedi standing before him, "Cloak's wanted by the Coruscant police for a robbery at the First Imperial Bank. I have been sent to collect him, and return him for questioning to Coruscant. Let's march people. You too, Ghostie."

Taylor kept his face impassive as the group exitted the downed ship. Before them, sat two shuttles and one sleek, two seater craft. A squad of troopers walked up to the group, looking official. Millard took a step back, allowing the troopers to walk up and surround the group.

Suddenly. his blue eyes moved quickly to Evanar, "And you...I did some research on the project you were a part of. Very interesting stuff.

"Okay troopers," Millard gave them an Imperial salute, "Take the prisoners."

The Jedi suddenly fell to the sand as three blaster bolts pierced his back, hitting his spine. Morgan hit hard, then staggered, as Millard pulled a blaster and shot him three times with a stun beam.

"Now," he said, turning back towards Lilaena, "What Cloak wants you for, I don't even know. I'm just here as a passenger as well. Although, I wasn't brought at lightsaber point."

I still don't know why Jeseth asked me on this mission. Ever since Master Darkserpent disappeared Cloak's been keeping in contact with more and more frequence. He's been planning this a while.

He shot Morgan one more time for safety, then pulled a comlink out of his belt.

"Tomar, you and your men can go now. Thanks for your help."

"No problem Taylor," the voice came from the comlink, "I'll see you next month or so. Jaranda says hi, by the way."

Taylor smiled, "Tell her hi back, Tomar. Safe trip back to Coruscant."

All the while, he kept his eyes on Lilaena, incase she tried anything. She didn't. He smiled again.

"Get up Cloak," Millard looked at Lord Mordrid, "You were rather unhelpful now weren't you? Let's go people. I gotta another ship waiting. Pilot says he'll take where-ever we want.

"Just don't mention you guys are Force-users. I don't think he likes 'em too much."

[Tomar]

Feels good to be back in action. Been way too long. I thought as I began to pack up the sniper rifle. I sat about a hundred yards away from the group exiting the ship. I'd been trained as a pilot but, like my mentor, I'd schooled myself in marksmanship.

Taylor and I kept in touch with each other fairly regularly. He was, after all, the closest thing to a father I'd ever had. Both of us had served on the Imperial Star Destroyer Superior as pilots and as commanding officers. But Taylor'd always had an edge. When I was a young bridge officer, he took me as an apprentice and protege training me in the arts and in tactics. When my wife and I got married, Taylor was the one who performed the ceremony. When he and his wife got marries, I was best man.

The both of us were retired- or atleast I was 'semi-retired'. I taught in the History Department at the Imperial Academy. Jaranda, my wife, teaches in the Economics Department. It was fun, but it was Taylor who brought me out for one last adventure.

He'd come to me weeks prior, asking for information about the 'Dark Trooper' project. With both of our military contacts, it took us a week to find the information we needed. The information about an extention of the project, completed but never implemented. Grand Admiral Thrawn had an extensive background of files, but it still took us a week to find what we needed to find.

Millard never mentioned why Jeseth Cloak asked him to come with him, for some reason it centered around a former Dark Jedi now turned to the Light named Lilaena De'Ville Tondry. Why she mattered to Jeseth Cloak, or what the Dark Trooper program meant was not mentioned. Only that a male Jedi might attempt to keep the acquitition of De'Ville-Tondry. That Jedi, turned out to be the one Millard was looking for.

He'd called me before he left, saying he was off on one last mission, one last battle, one last adventure. He only asked for my help on this one part.

I began walking towards the group of ships all on 'loan' from the Empire. All they knew was they were to assure the arrest of De'Ville-Tondry and the unnamed Jedi.

I reached the shuttle then turned and watched Taylor walk away, hopefully not for the last time.

Best of luck Taylor. I only hope you return safely and alive.

[Vera Ravencourt-Millard]

Its funny how it hits you.

You can be in a crowded room, or walking down the
quiet courtyards in the surrounds of the Order, or - like now -
in the privacy of your own apartment brushing your teeth, when a rememberance will come.
Sometimes it was more than just a memory. It was more a prodding or a sense of "impending." And just as often, it was not always clear which.

Something small or insignificant can trigger it. An object, a scent - it can be anything really.

Just as now.

It was the ornately decorated hair-comb on the counter, reflected in the mirror Vera was facing, that did it. Out of nowhere, the thought of her father and when he had given it to her years ago came unbidden to her mind. The pearl inlay of its base beautiful and fragile - just like our lives..

It had been two years since she had even spoken to her father, and that was more of a final meltdown than anything else. He just could not wrap his ordered and disciplined mind around the fact that his daughter, though she loved him, was morally opposed to all he stood for. He was still in the Service then, a Grand Admiral, and had only 6 months before he retired. He considered her joining the Jedi Order outright rebellion, not to mention a willful humiliation of him before the whole Imperial Fleets. It took all his influence among his peers for Vera not to be officially branded a traitor and hunted down for alighing herself with the Rebels. Though in all honesty, he felt it was what she deserved.

Grand Admiral Taylor Millard's anger that day was so feirce it had driven a wedge hard and wide between the formerly close and devoted family. Even Lawrence was estranged from her to some degree. She had gained her cause, but lost her father and brother both in following the way of the Jedi.

She looked herself in the mirror - the face of one who knew her convictions...and the high price she paid for them.


Finishing her nightly routine, the Jedi Knight touched the handle lightly and closed the light.

It didnt pay to be too sentimental..Somehow it could work against you .

Turning into her study, Vera Ravencourt-Millard, Admiral's daughter and rebel against the Imperials he commanded, decided to fill her mind with things other than a rift in her life that she despaired of ever being restored.

[Fire Hazzard]

Fiire yelled out as she watched Morgan strike down Jeseth. “You son of a bitch!” She threw herself down over Jeseth and placed her arm around him, one hand coming around to rest on her saber. The loading ramp quickly hissed and steamed open, and there stood Taylor Millard. She knew him only by name; he had been a friend of Jeseth’s for many years, since as far back as she could remember. Morgan froze at the sight of him. It was all turmoil, and she began to shake frantically, overwhelmed by her emotions.

She left go of Jeseth carefully as he ambled back to his feet and began to glare at Morgan furiously. He could feel her eyes burning through his flesh.

[Count Mordrid]

Mordrid drew his saber in a snap his, drawing back for a strike at De’Ville just as Morgan anti-climactically interrupted their little get together. He could have quickly and easily severed the women’s head while all the chaos came loose, but he heard something deep within his mind, like knife stabbing at his senses. Don’t kill her, or you will be next to die. He held his saber steady, watching her, unable to move. Jeseth still wanted her alive... He was a fool.

Millard’s arrival had probably saved many lives this day… All of the occupants of the ship stepped out, Mordrid’s saber deactivating as he eyed De’Ville with a lust for blood. Fiire followed slowly behind him, her anger so strong it was driving him even further into his own rage. She was Jeseth’s guardian Angel… his eyes in places where he was not, his ears in places where he could not travel…

“You were rather unhelpful now weren't you?” Millard was addressing Mordrid.

“I was doing as I was told.”

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth hit the ground hard when Morgan had thrown him, and his lip had cracked completely open, one of his teeth breaking away. He heard a sudden eruption of yelling following Morgan’s arrival, the snap-hiss of sabers. No, this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. Mordrid drew his saber back to strike down De’Ville, and Jeseth’s eyes went wide. Don’t kill her, or you will be next to die.

Morgan was moving to do something… draw a saber, or perhaps just deliver another blow. There was a loud mechanical sound, and everything froze in place; Millard stepped back up the ramp. He wasn’t supposed to have returned until tomorrow… “Your timing is much appreciated.” Jeseth’s lip sealed up slowly, the blood drawing itself back towards his wound. Morgan could feel an immense drain in the living Force as Jeseth healed himself.

The Dark Jedi licked the hole where one of his teeth used to be as he heard Morgan get shot down outside. He would get that repaired on their way to Coruscant… He looked at Fiire and took her hand, easing her thoughts. “I’m fine,” he said, kissing her cheek softly and nodded for her to go on ahead with Mordrid towards the other ship. Their own vessel was visibly damaged beyond quick repair - It was no wonder Millard had asked them all to step outside.

[Taylor Millard]

"As you can see," Millard spoke, ignoring Mordrid's prattling about 'doing his job', "Our Jedi friend here did plenty of work on the ship. I'd estimate it'd take about a week to fix it, even with technology at it's best."

Millard breathed deeply the hot air of Tattooine letting it fill his lungs. It was some of the most clean air in the galaxy, even if the planet's habitants were scum and criminals.

"As I said before, I've arranged transport for you back to wherever you're headed. Guy's a good pilot, but a hater of Force Users.

"I wouldn't mention it at all," his blue eyes narrowed as he directed a gaze towards Mordrid, "No way you can make yourself invisible or something?"

His gaze turned upwards as the three Imperial Shuttles took off, heading back to their station. It'd been good seeing Tomar again, been about a month or so. The two attempted to keep in touch fairly regularly, even though Millard retired back to Balmorra with Tomar on Coruscant. The two still laughed at how both of their wives hated the other when they first met. Ah how times changed.

Taylor let his thoughts on the past disappear as he turned back towards the group. Evanar was still unconcious on the sandy dunes, Tondry stood upright- her face defiant as usual, Mordrid floated like an angry spirit, and Jeseth stood there healing. The girl, he didnt' know...Fiire Hazzard was her name though. He'd never met her.

"So tell me Cloak, why am I here? I know why I have Evanar but why here? What's this all about?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena had been ready to take Mordrid's head off when Millard had interrupted Evanar's interruption. She had walked outside, her danger sense still flaring, but she had assumed it was because of Cloak and Mordrid.

I should have suspected this. Millard will never change, as much as he protests. She saw her saber in the former Imperial's hand, and knew that she could grab it back with just a pull of the Force. But then what? Cut her way out of the group, of course, but to what end? There was no way to haul Evanar to saftey and fight three Dark Jedi and a clone of a Jedi knight.

She had to stay. Jeseth did not really want her dead, not yet. And she had to protect her son from his dark designs. Lilaena drew in the Force like a calming blanket, and exhaled slowly. "Do you wish for me to accompany you, Cloak? Or are you going to kill me now?"

There was a tingle in her fingers at her words, and she carefully folded her hands. Tondry was incredibly alert, ready to protect the fallen Evanar with her life and her saber. Millard was also waiting for Cloak to answer his question. Subconsciously she focused on her saber, ready to pull it to her hand.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"You're headed on a crash and burn course, Aurelias. And I feel for you." the words rang through his mind as the bounty hunter sat in the cantina, a bourbon in his hand.

To a degree the words were true. He'd crashed and burned 10 years ago. Gorgja had pissed him off for the last time. He'd threatened to take his ship from him if Kazaar didn't kill a woman he'd been travelling with for about 3 years. In a moment of anger, Aurelias killed the fat slug. Now, no one hired him.

That's why he'd been suprised when the man hired him. He looked familiar by sight, but Kazaar didnt' know who he was. The greying man had slipped up to him while he was drowning himself in bourbon.

"You Aurelias Kazaar." it wasn't a question.

"Yeh, who wants to know."

The man slipped into his booth, "I've heard of you from some associates of mine. I have a job for you. Transportation of some people from here to Coruscant or wherever they want to go."

Normally, Kazaar wasn't freaked out by humans. But this man had piercing blue eyes. Eyes of cold durasteel which shone with light.

"I dont' do slavin' pal! So why don't you take your job and shove it up your..."

"Did I say it was slaving? No, I said transportation. That's different. Never assume." The man's eyes had almost glowed in anger, "Now, your fee. Will this suffice." ANother non-question.

Kazaar looked at the datapad. Seven Million Creds

"You're not joking?"

The man replied, "No, Seven Million. Give me an account and it'll be there tomorrow. Half of it atleast. The rest, I will personally give to you. These cooridinates."

Seven Million was Seven Million to Kazaar. He had a few debts still to pay off. And 3.5 Million was enough and more.

"Very well, I'll do it."

Now, almost an hour later, Kazaar was on his ship headed towards the Dune Sea. It was a newer ship too. The Flying Dutchman had been given away as a gift years ago. A gift, to someone who he'd learned to care about.

The new ship, was a YT-4500 design named Driven to Fire for no reason whatsover. He'd picked the name out of a holo 'bout a swoop rider who'd died in the biggest race of his life.

Kazaar circled once over the group gathered by a damaged ship. There appeared to be some sort of stand off going on. He hovered, waiting for what was to happen occur.

[Estelle Russard]

"Figures"


He was never where she expected him to be. And this time was no different.

Estelle had accompanied this man all over the known galaxy, and some of the unknown parts as well, and yet still she couldnt seem to get a step ahead of him. Despite her force ability. Despite knowing him better than anyone else did.

She tossed her duffle bag onto the sofa and looked around at his apartment. It was as unruly and unorderly as he was. She shook her head with a smile. It was funny how she tried to hide her disappointment at his absence from herself. She still, after all these years, found it hard to admit how much she felt for him. Even though the scoundrel knew it anyway.

She looked in the fridge - almost empty except for the beer - no suprise there either.

She wandered into the bedroom and turned on the holoscreen to his message grid.

After a moment, the screen blinking a dull grey....Kazaars grinning face appeared.

"Hey girl. Thought you might show up some day soon. I am hard to love and leave, I know"

He laughed at his own joke. Estelle laughed with him.

"Remember how you contacted me on Bespin that time? Same drill here. Its important, so dont get sidetracked with your Jedi-quests or whatever. Talk to you SOON." The screen blinked and then went black.

........Bespin.

She remembered clearly.

With a sigh, she got up and collected her still packed duffle bag again. She was so tired from travelling, but she could sleep on the ship.

Closing the door behind her, and heading out into the busy street bustling with nightlife, she hailed a hovercab to take her back to the spaceport and her docked Flying Dutchman.

She had a rendevoux to make.

[Slayn Cloak]

Slayn was on tatooine and under orders of his father. He had stolen a YT-2400 from curasant and was currently in use of it. His mission was somewhat pointless, none the less it would be fun. With the use of probe droids he had found his prey. It was not often that Slayn got to hunt and he would make sporting game of this one if time was favorable. It had been long and the servant of Trace Sha had grown in many devious ways. Suddenly a puase cam and brough with it a moment of loss, a longing for his master, for it had been so long since last they had spoke. Slayn was now a dark jedi and had done away with many idle pass-times. The Dark jedi then felt an urge, one as if he had betrayed his father, Jesth. A feeling of foreshadow came over him and he quickly pushed his thoughts, purging them from his mind. "!De'ville!" He then walked through a corridor and up to a communications panel. With the flip and touch of the controls a holo image appeared in the center of the adjacent hall. It was a projection of Jeseth Cloak his father, his creator. ”Something’s wrong, there has been some kind of interference.” Thoughts had come quickly, but were as quickly ended by Jeseths’s voice.
Jeseth spoke in a calm voice that was often in his character: “Don’t fret child, It was no more than a small set back. What news have you?
Slayn spoke in haste, but not uneasy, it was only that he felt something, something strange. “I have located the boy, his fall should prove to be an easy task, an entertainment at the least.”
Jeseth seemed to pause as a beast of the hunt would before attack, plotting, considering every option and exercising his foresight. Slayn stood there for some few moments before speaking in defiance. His voice was in a questioning tone, but had all the markings of malice and unsettled evil. “Something troubles you Father?"
A moment passed and he added...
"What is thy bidding?”